There’s something so fluid about productivity. That is, if you allow it to be fluid.

I can go weeks with doing everything right. I can follow the few steps I’ve laid before myself; waking up early, maintaining a decent pace at work, even exercising and cleaning. I can be wholly there and I feel great. I feel amazing, actually. Each day gets better and better as my body adjusts to a productive schedule and a full life.

It only takes one day. Not one day to allow myself to take a break: one day to stop everything. It’s like I’m cursed in a fairy tale. As long as I stay productive I can be the adventurous, independent hero the story knows and loves, but as soon as I stop, I turn into the slothful troll who does nothing but make a mess of the story line.

Maybe that analogy made sense.

I am not a marathon runner in this race of life. I’m either sprinting full speed ahead or tumbling down a hill so fast back into a lazy way of living, and I’m still trying to figure out how to balance this. I know this kind of laziness is not healthy for me. Sleeping late, eating terribly, no exercise…. it physically hurts me. The back pain I’ve been dealing with for years comes back full force, my skin starts battling between too dry or too oily. Sure, I still work and still get things done, but nothing feels good. Nothing inspires me.

It’s interesting that I do this to myself. So yes, I’m still figuring it out. Perhaps it will always be an issue, but as I learn to work at home and learn more about myself, I feel like I’ll be able to better manage myself more and more each day. I’m just going to make being productive a habit that I can’t break.

So here’s to you, Monday, the start of another work week and another chance to make this week a healthy, productive one!

I read the faded script, ink dried on the page years ago, paper soft with age. Tucked between a loose brick on the bottom of the wall and a piece of driftwood, the letter seemed to have called for me to read its words.

My mind wanders through possibilities. Was the letter ever read? Was it laid here on purpose so many years ago? A secret hiding place between young lovers, a place to share their affection without being caught.

Did this letter fall from someone’s belongings? Perhaps the belongings of a mourning family, as they walked along this same pathway. Their husband, mother, brother…this letter a keepsake to that person, who kept it all these years.

I fold the yellowed page and return it to its envelope. Filled with possibilities and nostalgia, I daydream about the owner, wishing I could return it to its rightful place.

Part of me connects so deeply, I can’t even explain. I’m reminded of rifling through my grandparent’s memories. I’m reminded of reading the notes my parents wrote to each other. I’m reminded of the hundreds of small notes my husband and I wrote when we were younger.

I slip the letter in my purse, but thinking about it, I return it to its spot. Perhaps the letter will never be read again. Perhaps I was its first reader. There’s something beautiful about the mystery. That the words were even written at all provided a cathartic sense of love and purpose to the writer.

Beyond that, the story is unknown. But the writer’s appreciation for this mystery person will live on forever through his words. For what better way to live forever than by proof of deeds done from love?

This was part of the Writing 101’s Blogging University. Today’s Prompt: You stumble upon a random letter on the path. You read it. It affects you deeply, and you wish it could be returned to the person to which it’s addressed. Write a story about this encounter. Today’s twist: Approach this post in as few words as possible.

‘They’re my favorite flower,’ I hear my grandmother say, as I gaze over the vast field of never-ending violet. Ripples of color sway lazily with the breeze and, breathing deeply, I’m transported back to my grandmother’s kitchen. The soft smell of tulips sitting on the kitchen counter next to the coffee pot as Elvis Presley sings hymns softly in the background. She liked listening to that CD in the morning. I make my way through the field taking photos I can’t wait to post, excitement I can’t wait to share.

The things that connect us. The purple tulips in May, on her birthday. The slightly burnt coffee every morning strictly at 7 am. The voice of Elvis Presley in the morning. Things that connect all of us. The entire family. I don’t have to explain my nostalgia for Betty Boop, because they have the same nostalgia. I don’t have to wait for the laugh track when I mention my appreciation of salt and pepper shaker collections because they appreciate them too. They get it.

This woman who lived a full life, filled with everything from a childhood in the country to one of glitz and glamour. She lived. Her feisty, talkative personality filled her house with laughter. Her love of collecting filled her home, literally. But it was beautiful. It was all beautiful. Specifically I’m not talking about her milk glass collection or china teacup sets. Or her extensive, beautiful gold and diamond jewelry, mostly rings. She treasured those rings and wore them, all at once, on special occasions. No, I mean sneaking in her wardrobe as a child and playing dress up in her 1970’s polyester nightgown-and-robe sets. I mean waiting until she went to the kitchen to slip into her storage room to gaze wide-eyed at her giant collection of Betty Boop coffee cups and dolls and shirts. Once I gave her an old life-sized cutout of Betty Boop. She displayed it in her living room for years.

We were never incredibly close. Or, perhaps, we were. To be close to Mamaw, was to savor the small moments. To be present and willing to listen; to be patient and willing to wait. I wasn’t a good roommate. I wasn’t. After college, I was just grateful for a room in her home at all. I came home exhausted from work and shut myself in my room to decompress for hours. I couldn’t stand watching The Bachelorette with her–even ironically–so I left that to my cousin. I would snap back with an attitude after 30-too-many-times her telling me to not wash my dishes/clothes/self while she was watching her evening shows. She couldn’t hear them, otherwise. I was patient, but I still think about the times I was not. Of course, she had an attitude as well. The kind of attitude that comes with the privilege of aging and not caring at all if what she said offended. To be close to Mamaw was to not care if she did offend, because you knew she was just trying to tell her funny story for a good laugh. Or she was just trying to make sure her precious Betty Boop valuables weren’t broken by the hands of a curious child.

I drift in and out of these memories of my grandmother. Visiting the fields of tulips is like an amplified megaphone; each petal, each smell shouting a memory directly at me. The beauty of those flowers, stretched miles and miles and miles, is overwhelming and awe-inspiring. These fields connect me to my grandmother, they connect us all. They affect me like they affect my family. There is a beautiful trust in that. Even thousands of miles apart, I know I am not alone. Through a simple song by Elvis Presley, we can share a memory, a story, a laugh. Through a single tulip, we can ensure our family history will be remembered in the most beautiful way.

Ashley from The Wine Stain wanted to show her city some appreciation and invited everyone to show their own city some love as well!

We are halfway through this awesome challenge and I’ve had so much fun. This has gotten me out of my office chair and onto the streets as I travel here and there around my hometown taking pictures of some of the coolest and interesting places! I have also been using this challenge to learn more about my city’s rich historical background.

The best part of this challenge has been seeing everyone else’s awesome cities! Check out the hashtag to see some amazing sights all over the world and consider joining with your own 30 day city love challenge! It’s never too late to show some city/town/country/village appreciation!

I started out with the same enthusiasm as I had in January, and really enjoyed the fun Valentine’s inspired printables I made. I had a great birthday celebration, and I also had a memorable Valentine’s day.

I think after Valentine’s day, though, I hit a slump. Less blogs, less crafts, less goals fulfilled! So, instead of feeling the weight of my somewhat failure, I’m just going to pick back up with March and start again.

Ehh….wow. February was SO hard to keep up with. My energy level was completely lost with this project. But I must move forward! For March, I’m NOT going to use a prompt. January, using a prompt was great. But in February, I could not seem to wrap my head around these simple, daily photos. I’m going to do some brain-storming on how to fulfill March during this 365 day photo challenge.

Today, I am starting a 2 week break away from Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Last night, I signed out of those sites on my phone, so I don’t receive notifications. Lo and behold first thing that automatically pops up on my work computer is Facebook! (I just exited) Plus, I have my tablet and kindle fire with these sites installed. There are so many areas where social media is so readily available. It’s difficult to move away from these sites. The only hang up I’ve had so far, was when I wanted to steal one of my photographs from Facebook to use…and caught myself right before I hit enter. Oops!

I’m excited for what March will bring. I just have to continue moving forward with a positive outlook and not let the past two weeks of the February blues take away all my energy for the rest of the year!

-P.S. Facebook or Twitter followers:
My blogs are being automatically sent
to these websites via a second-party
program. I promise, I'm not posting
the blogs myself during this 2 week break! -

This year as one one of my personal new year’s goals, wanted to really dive back into personal blogging.

The initial goal was simple: Record the journey I’m on through writing and photos. There was no pressure to create—just a rule: don’t lose the desire to create.

As I am reaching the end of January, I have really enjoyed my simple blogging (mostly of my 365 Photo Project and my husband baking), but I’ve also realized, if I want a cohesive “life story” at the end of the year, I may want to try to get organized. Even though this is just a personal, digital journal for me, I want its’ purpose to be evident and inspirational.

I want to attempt to schedule certain posts so that each week, even if all I can blog about most days are my 365 project, that at the very least, I’ll have a couple “extra” entries. I hope I’ll fall in love with this method and find a spark of creativity to add even more posts.

I’ve naturally wanted to create a few Photoshop images each week. These seem to naturally fall on Sunday.

Sunday: Quoteables – The end result of these posts may be simple, but for me, it’s about exercising my design skills and imagination. The process is searching for a quote that describes that week/day. For instance, on a rainy weekend, I wanted to brighten the mood. I researched a quote, found one appropriate to my mood, (researched the person I was quoting!) and created a graphic in Photoshop.

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Hello, I'm Alyssa Beth! I am from East Texas living in Canterbury, UK with my husband, Taylor. I work in marketing as a graphic designer and advertiser. I love writing about my adventures, life lessons, and diy!